gerardandlindseyway:

this might be my favorite post on tumblr ever

(Source: sexyyuglyy)

(Source: niknak79)

(Source: whirlpoool)

imwesmoore21:

18 what a number.
So today April 18th, 2013 makes one year, that my dad passed away. I wish I could begin to explain to you all how wonderful strong and caring my dad was. I unfortunately can’t even begin to explain that. But I will tell you this, my dad is the kind of father I want to be, when I had a problem he offered a solution, when I needed that harsh truth my dad was there to dish it out, when it became time for me to become a man my dad was there to lead me in the path I needed to go. Now for a little back story, my biological fathers name is Jason, my dad name is John. Jason, isn’t a bad guy, we just lived in different states, I never really had much of a relationship with him nor did we ever really bond either, luckily I had my dad. My dad met my mom when I was 7 years, he worked for the local police department being the little badass I was I’d ride around his patrol car, ask him how the donuts were and if he liked bacon. He’d catch me sneaking out of my moms house to ride my bike, well then my moms at the time husband decided he wanted to become a raging alcoholic whose favorite past was punching and kicking a 7 year old Wes. One night the neighbors called the police department, (at the time not yet my dad) Officer John Fontenot, arrived at our house to investigate what he referred to as a noise compliant. I still remember him in his uniform, I remember looking at the pins in his shirt and wanting to ask what they were for but my moms husband had instructed me not to say a word and that my eye which was at the swollen out to be the size of a orange with bright blue and deep purple bruising on my arms, chest, neck and the knot in my forehead, was caused by a bike accident. My dad didn’t believe it for a second he got my name and moms husbands name filed a report. A few weeks later a white older woman showed up with a different officer ( I now remember as Rambo) and wanted to ask me questions. My moms husband had already coached me, as to what to say and what caused my injuries. He always said if I ever told any cop or teacher what happened to me he’d kill my mother and tie me to a chair and burn the house down. So out of fear I lied to the lady, even though so badly wanted to tell them the truth about my bruises about my scars but I didn’t. Even after the interview my dad periodically checked up on me, he noticed that I was getting unhealthy as far as my weight, I was skin and bones due to the fact I wasn’t allowed to eat when my moms husband was around. When my dad wasnt busy he’d bring me to this little drive in cafe and buy me lunch or breakfast. Then one day my moms husband decided beating me with his hands was getting boring , that takin a Waterhose filling it with batteries and other small metal items was his new favorite tool. I remember “what I did” which was spill water on the floor, my moms husband took the hose and began hitting me across my chest arms head, legs to the point I was knocked out, when I woke up I remember my mom askin me “who did this?” “Who did this?” I shook my head no, then I heard a voice, a voice that I’ve heard a thousand times say “it’s okay, I won’t let then do it again” I then told them what happened. My dad then walked out of the room and placed my moms husband under arrest. A few months go by I get better, my mom tells me that she had someone she wanted me to, my dad walked I ran and hugged him. I hadn’t seen him in months and never got to thank him for what he did. My mom then told me that we were moving in with Mr.John (cuz you know I just didn’t start off calling him dad) years go by I turn into a teenager, my dad retires from law enforcement. I finish school, move to Memphis for a year then I come back. My dad then Asked me what is it I wanted to do with my life as a career, I threw some ideas out, he suggested maybe law enforcement. I told I didn’t think it was for me, that I don’t think I was cut out for it. He never pressured me into, I then decide that I wanted to do it. He makes a few calls for me and lines a few things up then bam I was law enforcement officer, I remember the first day I brought my uniform to his house, he was so excited to show me how to set my duty rig up how to polish my boots how to wear my badge and a few tricks of the trade. I remember this day well because I’ve never seen the look of pride in his eyes like that day. Yes I know everyone has a hero, some it’s a sport icon, a singer or a celeb. My dad was my hero, he saved from someone who hurt me, saved me from the life style I endured, kept me safe. Protected me, gave me everything when I had nothing. So on this day a year ago I lost my mentor, my friend, my hero, and most importantly my dad.

tacblog1:

Everybody pitching in to fight terror.

RIP Officer Collier

novarenata:

So true!

(Source: ryanlovelace)

capturingherthoughts:

When things don’t go according to plan, gymnast Gabby Douglas gets flexible in the Nike Free TR Breathe Shoe. [x]

(Source: lemonyandbeatrice)

bjjsam:

Oh geez

(Source: rodrigovanilla)

(Source: towritelesbiansonherarms)

karfavour:

time for a camper nap by {Shelbi} Lynn A. on Flickr.

castateparks:

Anza-Borrego Desert, circa 1980.